


Reunited

by casey2y5



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dean doesn't know Sam is Sam, M/M, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:32:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4737908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casey2y5/pseuds/casey2y5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean shows up in Palo Alto, chasing a Master's in literature he has to keep telling himself that Sam would've already graduated- that there's no way he's still around. He tells himself his no-strings attached pseudo-relationship with the too-tall long haired law student he shares a study table with has nothing to do with repressing just how much he misses his brother, not knowing how close he really is. Of course he can't hide from his past forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunited

**Author's Note:**

> The lovely txdora created art for this story.

Dean had taken to chewing his cuticles every time he left his apartment. It had been five years- even if Sam had tacked on an extra semester for whatever reason he would be long gone and on to the rest of his life by now. He had every right to be in Palo Alto for school now- that is what he told himself when he first applied and what he repeated now. No one, including him half the time, believed he’d get to one of the most prestigious literature programs in the country, and choosing Stanford had nothing to do with Sam.

Still, every place he went was fraught with what-if terror. When the semester first started he honestly hadn’t thought he’d get through those first few days of classes without having a breakdown. He got through all his classes though- grinning forcibly when he was teaching and otherwise keeping his head buried his notebooks after glancing around the room. Relief flooded through him after the start of each class. He missed his brother, of course he did, but if that reunion was going to happen then it wasn’t going to happen in middle of a class and he would be spared those dramatics. It couldn’t, not with everything that needed said.  At this point though he wasn’t even sure if he’d recognize Sam if he saw him, it had been five years, Sam would be twenty-three and probably miles away from the chubby faced boy he had known.

He wondered sometimes if Sam had actually stuck with pre-law or if he had changed to something else. There was so much he didn’t know he sometimes felt like they never should have let him into grad school. He could analyze texts, knew beat literature like no one else he knew, but he still couldn’t keep track of the people he cared about. He knew he should just keep pressing on, but the nagging what ifs were always picking at the back of his brain.

*****

     The walls of his dorm were starting to close in. He was grateful his roommate was quiet but even after being in Kansas for four years he still got restless being in one place for too long and the quiet didn’t do much to help. The bedroom was stark white and it made him uncomfortable and he decided that whatever may happen in this bedroom, studying was not going to be one of them. Of course, he could also just buy posters and actually decorate the room, but it was hard to see the point when he would be moving again next year, if not sooner.

He’d never been partial to study rooms though; in Kansas they were small and too bright and he always felt like the Apocalypse could be happening just outside and he wouldn’t know, or in the case of the glass front ones like an animal on display. Still he heard good things about this one- it was spread out and open so he’d feel safe and more importantly it was open twenty-four hours a day. If he fell asleep at six he wouldn’t have to worry about missing his scheduled time, something that happened more than once before he’d given up study rooms altogether.

He packed up and headed across campus, backpack straps tangled in the collar of his overshirt and he couldn’t be bothered to fix it. Everyone already looked harried and busy and Dean knew no one would be paying attention to his crooked collar. Although he wanted to yell at them to slow down and take a breath before the semester really got going he already knew that really wasn’t an option for any of them unless they wanted to burn out before they were only a month into the semester.

Dean knew most of them would figure it out before it was too late. Still he didn’t know how the undergraduates did it- there was no way he’d have been able to manage college when he was eighteen, especially across the country or the world from his family, not that he had one of those anymore.

He pried open the door, getting hit with a blast of air conditioning so cold it made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, purely on instinct. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before plunging into the oppressive, stuffy silence. It was almost painful, the way everyone kept their heads down, dutifully ignoring each other and making no noise beyond the occasional scratch of a pen or rustle of a page turn. He was glad Sam had gone here- he’d have been right at home among these stacks, Dean decided as he followed the signs the study room he was looking for. He still wasn’t sure if it was the right place for him. Quiet had never really been his thing.

It was gorgeous. Dean actually had to stop short, taking it all in from the doorway for a few seconds before someone stopped to clear their throat. He scurried out of the way, entering the room, feeling a little like this was the absolute last place he belonged. The chairs looked comfortable enough to study in for hours (but uncomfortable enough to avoid actually falling asleep in), shared tables a perfect height for the stacks of books he so often found himself surrounded by. There was enough natural light to be comfortable not so much that it would be weird at night and the east facing windows were going to be great for watching sunrises. The books were just standard reference books most people would use at some point and he couldn’t be bothered with them at the moment. The dark wood contrasted the white walls, giving it a look somewhere between traditional and modern that wasn’t to his personal taste, but tied in with the rest of the campus beautifully. Still he wondered how it had taken him two weeks to find this place. There weren’t any open tables along the perimeter of the room but he spotted a shaggy haired man sitting alone and he hoped it wasn’t for a reason as he made his way over.

“Anyone sitting here?” Dean asked, gesturing to the empty half of the table.

“Go ahead,” the guy said. “Sorry about the mess.”

“No worries. You had the table to yourself until thirty seconds ago. I really don’t have that much stuff.”

“Just needed to get out for a bit?” he said with a knowing smile, gesturing to his own massive pile of work, indicating he had planned to be here for quite a while.

“Yeah. Though I think I may be coming back here more often.” Dean flashed his sweetest smile at the guy in spite of himself.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to share my table anytime.” He smiled back.

Dean bit his tongue to keep from flirting for real, and tore his gaze away from pretty hazel eyes. He distracted himself by pulling out his grading notebooks and started to thumb through their in-class responses. He took his sweet time, marking every mistake and writing comments on each paper and prayed he wouldn’t see some of these atrocities twice. Once he encountered one that was somehow formatted despite being written in class, in the wrong citation system. He scrawled ‘SEE ME’ and his e-mail on the top of the paper before thunking his head on the desk and groaning.

“Everything okay?” the guy asked.

“They formatted an in-class, two paragraph response and used the wrong format.”

Dean raised his head just enough to see him quirk an eyebrow before he burst out laughing. Library Guy was going to be a lot of fun.

It didn’t occur to him until he got back to his dorm that he never asked the guy’s name. He figured he should ask the next time he saw him. Like that was basic human decency. Even as he crawled into bed he already forgot about it.

*****

If Dean hadn’t grown up like he had, hunting the things every child instinctively knew hid in the dark, if rarely actually under their beds, he’d have called his Wednesday discussion demons. As it was he was tempted to do it anyway. It was for an intro class, weeding out the weak from the people who actually loved literature, Dean had realized early on (just from his first and so far only conversation with the professor), and somehow all the people who were very obviously taking this class because it was required, half of whom Dean expected to drop the class by midterms. If they all dropped out it would give him some free time, at least, and he spent several long silences trying to figure out if he would still get paid if that happened. It was only two weeks in and dreading Wednesdays seemed to be the most predominant pattern of his semester so far.

He was standing at the front of the room, trying not to shift his weight, and show how nervous he was. The first week was all introductions and going over the syllabus, but now he actually had to teach. Grateful as he was for the opportunity to take on multiple T.A. posts as a first year, the thought of actually being responsible for making sure the students knew the material was a little terrifying. He remembered his own T.As and suddenly had a lot more respect for them. Whoever decided it was a good idea to put grad students in charge of material, never mind making it a required part of their degree, apparently had never done grad school.

The silence was shifting from tense to awkward as he realized none of them had so much as made it past the biography before the story, or if they had no one was willing to speak up. He’d let himself get lost in his thoughts for a few minutes, hoping one of them would have a good sense to give the story a quick scan and make something up on the spot he could roll with. Apparently he was just not going to have that kind of luck with this class. He gave the room one more sweep, just in case, keeping his flinch to a minimum when he swore he saw a flash of black, before deciding he was going to have to change his approach entirely.

“Okay, so I didn’t say much about myself last at the start of class last week. Before I went the University of Kansas I was a nineteen year old dropout with six bucks and half a GED to my name. I grew up on the road- longest I ever spent at a school was four months. I know a thing or two about not thinking you’re going to make it, but you’re here and you wouldn’t be unless you were remarkably brilliant. I’m willing to help every last one of you get through this class if you’re willing to try. That means doing the readings and if this happens again, if none of you read what you’re actually supposed to, I’m letting you all go and giving you an F for the week. Don’t waste my time.”

A tentative hand raised, about halfway back.

“Yes?”

“I read it. I just,” the girl stuttered a bit, looking absolutely terrified. “I don’t have anything nice to say about it so I thought I shouldn’t say anything at all.”

“We’re here to critique as well as talk about the merits of all the books we study. Quite frankly I think The Open Boat is the most worthless piece of drivel I’ve ever read.” Dean paused to gather himself and try to think ahead. “The world of short stories was changing at the turn of the century, which is what makes it feel dated even considering when it was written. It doesn’t utilize the Victorian features we’re used to seeing, like we discussed in lecture, but compare it to Romantic stories you may have read and see how it measures up.”

There was a long moment of silence as they shuffled through their lecture notes and formulated a response. Dean sighed, and tried not to be proud of himself. He wondered if he could talk his friend from the study room into going out tonight instead of studying. It may be Wednesday but his  brain was already ready to explode for the week. The last thing he needed was to do more work after he was done with classes, as much as he may need to do it. It wasn’t the first time he wished he had the guy’s number. Somehow just asking for it didn’t seem like it would be reasonable. He looked up, glad to see most of them had found what they were looking for and he shook his head at a flash of black from the back of the room. He really needed to get more sleep before he started seeing things, well more than he apparently already was. There was not going to be hunt while he was here unless it was actually attacking him.

 

*****

Dean had gotten used to seeing the guy in the study room, even after only a couple weeks. Even if they didn’t always end up sharing a table, they were usually there at more or less the same time. They’d even gone to get coffee a few times when they’d both finished or needed a break at the same time. So when he wasn’t at his usual spot at the usual time Dean couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment even if they had never formally agreed to meet here or anywhere else for that matter. He didn’t even know the dude’s name; there was no reason for him to be disappointed. He forced himself to settle into his usual spot, glad no one else had taken it and drag out his book and sticky notes. He was going to finish annotating this by tomorrow if it killed him.

The night ticked on, little by little, darkness falling through the windows, and the glare of the streetlights seeping in through the windows. The glow was almost eerie, when combined with the bright flickering fluorescent lights of the library.The study room started to thin out about one like it always did. The last person besides him packed up around two and Dean got up to stretch and do a lap around the room before ducking out to refill his water bottle and use the bathroom. He jumped when he got back and saw Library Guy sitting at the table, twirling his pen around.

“You really shouldn’t leave your things unattended. That’s how they get stolen.”

“Well, when I left the only person left was packing up. I’d have taken it if I knew what kind of riff raff they let in here.”

He laughed. “You’re one to talk.”

Dean grumbled, snatching his pen out of his long fingers, realizing they were the only two left in the room. He shook his head, changing the train of thought before it even went down that track. His heart skipped a beat anyway, wondering if Library Guy had come in the hopes of seeing him. Of course, the sight of his stuffed backpack sitting on the floor next to the chair he was sitting in put that thought to rest almost immediately. A pang rolled through him. Being attracted to other dudes wasn’t a thing Dean found entirely unfamiliar, and he’d done plenty of experimenting in Kansas, or at least as much as he could given he was in fact in Kansas. Still he didn’t even know the dude’s name so maybe he was projecting a bit.

He liked dudes just as much as he liked boobs and frankly even if he didn’t he was pretty sure he would still have a thing for the man across the table from him. He’d sort of assumed Library Guy was straight, but if he imagined that long chestnut hair between his fingers when was in the shower, well that was his business wasn’t it? There was nothing wrong with recognizing that a friend was objectively attractive. He wasn’t really even planning on making his interest known unless Library Guy made it obvious.

“What are you doing here anyway? It’s nearly three in the freakin’ morning.”

“Had a thing tonight, but still have to get this done. Figured you might still be here.”

“You came to see me. I’m touched.”

“Well you’re a fair sight better than waking up face down on my couch with absolutely nothing done.”

“ I see how it is.” Dean pretended to be offended, even as he arranged the table to make space. “You’re just using me to stay awake.”

The hope was rekindled, as hard as Dean tried to push it down. Library Guy studying at his own place would have been a whole lot easier than schlepping to campus to study with a guy who may not be there. It was an off chance but one Dean was plenty willing to latch onto. If Dean wasn’t trying so hard to keep his hopes tamped down he would’ve even said it was incredibly unlikely to go across campus in the middle of the night on a chance unless you particularly liked the person.

“Pretty face like yours? How can I resist?”

Dean laughed and sat back down. He could feel eyes on him and chose to ignore it, going back to reading. He could hear the other man rustle around in his bag, pulling out what he needed and settling into his own work. Dean did actually manage to get pulled into the story, at least for fifteen pages or so, until Library Guy started humming under his breath.

“What song is that?” he asked, closing his book, marking his place with his finger.

“Hey Jude. Seriously, you don’t know the Beatles?”

“Course I do. Just something my mom sang to before she died.”

“Must have been popular back when. My brother used to sing it to me when we were kids.”

“Close to your family then?” Dean asked.

“Not so much anymore. You know how it goes. Then my girlfriend died in a fire a couple years ago and things sort of fell apart for a while.”

“Sorry to hear about that.”

“Delayed law school for a semester, got it together. It’s in the past now.”

There was still a sadness that haunted his eyes. Dean had to resist the urge to reach out and hug him.

“Yeah, man. Sorry to interrupt.”

“No worries. Figure I’ll find a nice girl, or a nice guy, I guess, to settle down with eventually. I don’t really believe in the whole we have one soulmate for our entire lives shit.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah. It’s absurd. I just, how  can one person possibly give you everything you need?”

Library Guy tangled their feet together under the table. Dean’s heart was pounding in his ears. There was no doubt in his mind just where this night was more than likely to end up.

“Exactly.”

Dean recognized the shift in the room, having felt it more than enough times. He shifted forward in his seat. They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, just watching each other. Library guy licked his upper lip as Dean started to lean in.

They both jumped and yelped at the same time as their heads collided. The sprinklers were pouring down water and Dean dived over his laptop instinctively as the fire alarms blared.

“Shit!” Dean yelled, moving to the exit.

“What the fuck?”

“I swear there better be an actual fire if my laptop is damaged,” Dean yelled over the alarms.

They made their way outside, arms crossed. It had started raining at some point and they were soaked through to the skin as soon as they stepped outside. The alarms echoed across the lawn, where the other handful of people in the library had trekked. The moment was gone just as quickly as it had started. It was rapidly apparent they wouldn’t be getting anymore work done that night and it made a whole lot more sense to go home and get some unexpected sleep. Dean cast a look up at Library Guy, realizing just how tall he was for the first time.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Dean said.

“Definitely. May as well head home right?”

Dean could swear he almost looked disappointed and he had to bite his tongue to keep from inviting him to his favorite diner down the road.

*****

 

Dean still couldn’t quite shake the feeling he had gotten the first few weeks of class- that there was something not quite right with his Wednesday class. He had learned the kid’s name, Caleb, and he had kept a careful eye on him, just in case. It had only been a handful of moments, hardly flashes in the grand scheme of things, but still, he knew enough to trust what he saw. And the kid’s eyes had definitely flashed black, more than once.

Actually doing something about it almost seemed like more trouble than it was worth.  He had considered just calling Dad and telling him he had a case here and needed help. Somehow it was even less appealing than just taking care of it himself. Unlike Sam, who had disappeared off the face of the planet, and who Dean still couldn’t find despite scouring the Internet, he was still on fairly good terms with John. Enough to know he was proud of his son’s accomplishments, to have him turn up to graduation. They talked a few times a month and it was so different than what Dean had grown up with it almost made him miss the life. Dean grabbed his phone and hoped someone would be around, lest he made poor decisions.

Dean: Whatcha doin’?

Library Guy: nm. homework.

Dean: Got a few?

Library Guy: Sure. Sup?

Dean: I got a problem student and idk what to do about him

Library Guy: Tell me about him

Dean: Crazy as it sounds it feels like he’s the one influencing my wednesday section to be so awful.

Dean: I can’t really explain it. But when he’s been gone we’ve had productive discussions and as soon as he gets back it’s like all hell breaks loose part 2

Library Guy: What’s part one?

Dean: The amount of work i have

Library Guy: Fair enough.

Library Guy: Can’t you just talk to the kid.

Dean: He kinda gives me the creeps

Library Guy: Office hours on Thursdays right? Like if you think he’s an actual threat?

Dean: Yeah. You don’t need to be there. Just swing by my office about 3 to make sure I’m not dead.

Dean: If you aren’t busy or something

Library Guy: Not a problem.

Dean: Thanks

Dean tossed his phone onto the desk with a clatter. He really had to do something now and he hoped Caleb really was just a troubled student and not a monster. Otherwise he’d be putting Library Guy in danger and he was pretty sure that was a bad idea. He was sort of hoping that whatever that moment in the library had been, would turn into something more.

There was nothing more he could really do at the moment. He fired off an email to Caleb, asking him to come in to office hours on Wednesday. When he got home he’d make preparations, just in case Caleb was something more. Then he would wait.

*****

Dean barely slept. He forgot just how stressful a hunt could be when you didn’t know it was a hunt. He was rusty and he knew it. Going in blind was not how he wanted this to happen, and for about the fifth time since he had decided to go after Caleb he had considered calling his father. He was 27 years old. He could handle a damn hunt by himself.

He sat in his office waiting, running through the standard exorcism a few times in his head, even though he had it right in front of him. He laughed, knowing Sam had had it memorized when he was fourteen because he had gotten bored when they were driving through Texas hill country. A knock on the door startled him out of this thoughts.

“Come in,” he called.

The door creaked open and Caleb gave him an uncertain smile. Dean had already sprinkled some holy water into his coffee and he was prepared to apologize profusely.

“Hi, Caleb.”

“Hey Dean. You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah. I’m just concerned about your performance lately.”

“Should I be worried?” Caleb looked genuinely concerned and Dean almost rethought his plan before he remembered the way the hairs on the back of his neck had stood on end the first week of classes.

“No, I mean there’s still plenty of time left in the semester. I’d just hate for you not to know you’re in trouble until it’s too late.”

Dean made to reach for his coffee. He let it slip from his grasp, falling forward into Caleb’s lap before the mug fell to the floor and shattered. There was a split second where everything froze and then smoke started to rise from Caleb’s pants. His eyes flashed black. They stayed that way  this time.

“You’re a hunter,” he hissed.

“Really semi-retired.”

Dean flew back, hitting the wall, an invisible force contracting around his neck. He cursed in his head, unable to choke air out. He shouldn’t have stopped to taunt him. Caleb was appraising him, head tilting from side to side. Dean thrashed, trying to get down, before accepting he was pinned. He really should have called Dad. Now Library Guy was going to find his body and it would be a huge mess for someone else to clean up. He just hoped the real Caleb wouldn’t pay the price.

“Winchester. I should have known. You and your brother were very nearly very important. Still I imagine you’ll still be wanted downstairs. You have potential.”

The pressure on his throat released a bit. Dean took a ragged gasp.

“I would never enjoy Hell.”

A smack resounded across his face. The blood dripped, warm and sticky, down the side of his face. At least Caleb liked to play with his food.

“Exorcizamus te-” Dean started before his air was cut off again.

He leaned forward in vain, knowing he couldn’t get to the salt or holy water on his desk from where he was. A knock sounded at the door before he was punched again. He glanced frantically at the clock, realizing it was likely Library Guy coming to check on him.

“Occupied,” Caleb called out.

The doorknob turned and Dean couldn’t choke anything out to warn him. To his credit he only froze for a second when he opened the door. Sharp claws scraped across his side before Caleb was distracted by the new person and released him.

“Demon. He’s a demon. Run.”

Dean really hoped he wouldn’t question it, that he would just run and not get help. Apparently he couldn’t be that person as he walked in and shut the door behind him, an air of calm radiating from him that Dean had rarely seen before.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” he started.

And oh, oh things fell into place. Dean snapped back to reality, knowing this was not the time or place for this realization. He would deal with it later because right now Sam was flying against the wall. He really hoped taking up the exorcism where he left it was going to work.

“Omnis satanica potestas,”  Dean said, flying back into his desk.

His computer hit the ground with a crash that made him cringe. Sam was stuttering to his feet and Dean could tell Caleb wasn’t powerful enough to hold both of them at the same time.

“Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,” Sam continued.

Sam had bruises forming on his face as soon as he was slammed to the floor again, Caleb looming over him instantly, fingers looming over his throat.

“Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica,”  Dean spluttered out, mangling the Latin horribly.

Sam shot him a look and Dean rolled his eyes. It had been enough to earn a scream from Caleb and a puff of gray left his mouth. Really what else mattered? More importantly it was enough to distract him from tearing Sam’s throat out. He threw himself at Dean, no longer messing around as he scrambled, throwing punch after punch.

It was a thousand different scenes from their childhood all at once. It was the wendigo in Minnesota, the werewolf in Boston, the shifter in Nebraska, the skinwalker in New Mexico. They had almost died more times than they could count, but had always managed to save each other. That was what they did, the point of it. And here they were, in an office in Stanford, making enough noise that they were bound to attract some unwanted attention soon.

Dean was still aware enough to hear Sam spitting out the rest of exorcism as Caleb got in a few more hits. The world faded in and out for a few seconds before Dean became aware of the limp body on top of him. He pushed him off, getting shakily to his feet. Sam was panting, shoulders heaving. Okay apparently even bleeding, possibly concussed and finally in full knowledge of who Library Guy was he was still incredibly attracted.

“Sammy?”

“Hi.”

Dean laughed, leaning forward to hug him. Sam met him halfway. They would clean this mess up in a bi, when everyone else had gone home.

“In the library, did you-” Dean really wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence.

“Not really, no. Is it weird I still want to?”

“Not at all.”

Sam pulled out of the hug a bit, carefully pressing their lips together. Dean shuddered at the sparks went through him. It was a little gross, blood smearing.  When they pulled back though, Dean knew he had finally found home again.


End file.
